good cateress newsletter September 2010


On reflection I have realized that the majority of my vacation/holidays have been self catering. Which I suspect really means that I am product of my english middle class heritage! That said, I am always saying my next vacation will be in a resort, where I wont have to cook and can be waited on. Truthfully I prefer the unexpected of shopping in a foreign location, and cooking with local ingredients.

France was our favorite destination as a family, where we would rent a gites or a canal boat for a week or ten days. Staying in small hotels found in our other trusted handbook Logis de France on our journeys there and back. We did stay in a myriad of hotels, some old and dark with a walk to the shared bathroom - remember this was the 70’s and early 80’s; some with funky showers in the room and small hard towels; some with dogs that barked all night; they all seemed unchanged since the war. The only thing they all had in common was the food, it was all very good, no matter how basic or elaborate.

The Gites too were all quite similar although in very different locations, very french lots of patterns on the walls and curtains, but very serviceable and clean. Old stone farm cottages just outside a village.

Dad always took care of breakfast, always an early riser, he would walk into the town to the local bakery, returning with croissant, brioche, and a couple of baguettes; again always delicious but often quite remarkably different in flavor or texture. Lunch would be at a restaurant wherever our journey that day took us.

Dinner would be back at our gites. Mum, with Simon and I tagging along would have gone to the village boucherie. It was always funny to note that on our first visit the
butcher would have a slightly sneering attitude to us; which changed daily as they realized mum was a good cook, and knew what she was buying, by the end of the week the butcher greeted mum as an old and trusted customer. One big treat was the veal - I know, I know baby cows, bad treatment - but truly delicious and not available in England, so veal chops with local vegetables and salad was one of our first meals. We also tried the butchers home made pates, head cheeses and other local delicacies.

In the spring our favorite vegetable was the large white asparagus.

The year I got to chose the gites, I wanted to go somewhere different from the Dordogne or Provence. I must have been reading some romantic novel and wanted to be near Biarritz but also in the Pyrenees. It did not occur to me to look at the map for the height of the town I chose. So driving to find St. Luz we went higher and higher up into the mountains, past Lourdes. At the top of one mountain we pulled into a layby to take in the view. Dad said look at the eagles, we all looked up but they were flying beneath where we were; at the same time the car next to us started to reverse out and for a moment panic set init felt as though we were rolling forward off the mountain.

As it did not occur to me about the height, you know it also did not occur to me that it would be cooler, If not quite cold. The meadows were full of spring flowers, narcissi, bluebells, heathers all fragrant and lush. So, you know the meats and cheeses were wonderful as the cows were feeding in the meadows; also the asparagus were wonderful.

However, it was cold, cold. We wore our sweaters and sweatshirts all the time and at night we were grateful for mum cooking as the oven was on, warming us all up.

One item always went on holiday with us. A pack or two of playing cards. Dad first taught us simple card games when we learnt to count, in fact we probably learnt our numbers from cards. A variety of whist games were our game of choice, Sgt. Major, a three hand game, while mum cooked dinner; then bid whist; Solo, and Cribbage after dinner. Dad always won. Whenever I play cards and lose, I hear him saying “Did you keep count of the cards played?”

I first started going to Anguilla in 1990 with Clio, staying at Ronni Bates Seahorse Cottages at Cul de Sac. At that time fresh fruits and vegetables were scarce, particularly if you missed the shipments for the 3 supermarkets on Tuesday or Thursday.
So the catering part of self catering was a bit hit or miss but we subsidized with rice and peas from Fat cat, ribs and chicken from Big Jims at Blowing Point. With the occasional lunch at Cap Juluca for a green salad.

I spent a few summers at the Seahorse when I would be there for 6 - 7 weeks. The days and weeks would take on an rhythm of their own, with a mix of yoga, snorkeling, walking, seeing friends. About every ten days I would take an early morning ferry over to Marigot in St. Martin, having a coffee and croissant in a waterside cafe, then walking to a couple of different french supermarkets and loading my bag with fruits, vegetables, cheeses and pate from France. I could easily kid myself I was back in France.

After our recent move, I realized that I needed a vacation, not a family visit. I asked Heather if we could stay with her and she wrote back to say one of her apartments was empty. I booked flights for the last week of August. I knew there was a risk of a hurricane, but I had been in Anguilla a few times at this same time and usually the hurricanes arrived the week after I left, so I felt confident that everything would be OK.

Our first five days were heaven, I got to float in the Azure sea, walk the beach, swim again. I could finally feel my body relaxing and feeling better. We had lovely meals: Tastys, E’s oven but probably my favorite was at Mickeys, grilled chicken and garlic bread under a full moon looking at Sandy Ground.

On saturday people started muttering about Tropical Storm Earl that was out in the Atlantic and looked to be on course to hit the Antilles. Sunday morning there were the first dark gray clouds on the horizon and yes, the word was we were in for a direct hit. I went to the beach for a quick swim and then headed into town for basics. I had never seen Ashleys Supermarket so busy. Everyone was stocking up, water, candles, batteries canned food, bread.

By mid afternoon the winds were picking up, the gray of the clouds kept changing. The occasional squall came through with a few drops of rain. We charged our computers and phones. We waited. Our constant companion was The Weather Channel that was covering 5 years since Katrina, which was a little unnerving as we waited for Earl. We waited some more. The winds continued to gust, the arrival time changed. We went to bed hoping that it would blow through in the night and we would sleep through it!!!

The electricity went out around 2.30am. We woke up at 5am, the wind and rain had definitely changed. I put a towel under the window that had no shutters and that was cracked for air. The next time we woke up at 9ish the floor was covered with water. And so began the wringing out of towels by doors and windows that continued for the next five hours, it was amazing to witness the ways the water found to come in, through the lintels, under, over between. Every lull in the wind or rain, I said, this must be the back end of the storm, wrong! By early evening the storm was letting up, I stepped out for a breathe of air and to survey the damage, but a big squall came along. Heather and I had a much needed cup of tea!

That night Num sang to me and we listened to music on his computer. We were reluctant to burn through both computers, which was just as well.

Morning came with big blue skies and a few Humming Birds frantically looking for flowers, that had all been blown away. We breathed a sigh of relief, but the radio said Fiona would hit the next day! The damage all seemed superficial where we were, but other areas were not so lucky. We headed back to the couple of stores that had generators and were open. First thing in the basket, a pack of cards.

I want to say that mosquito’s and cockroaches will probably inherit the earth!

Three days with no electricity and water, takes you really back to basics. We could get water in buckets from the underground cisterns, which were now full. Good lessons to learn: a gas stove so that you can still cook. For me personally the hardest thing was the water and particularly a shower.

And this was what I wanted to eat when we first got home:





Corn chowder

1/2 cup diced slab bacon or pancetta
1 cup diced onion, I like to mix scallion and yellow onion
1 large carrot, cut into 1/4-inch dice
1 celery rib, cut into 1/4-inch dice
1/2 red bell pepper, cut into 1/4-inch dice
1/2 lb yellow-fleshed potatoes such as Yukon Gold (2 small), peeled and cut into 1/4-inch dice
3 cups reduced-sodium chicken broth (40 fl oz)
2 fresh thyme sprigs
1 bay leaf
2 cups corn
1 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon fine sea salt
1 teaspoon black pepper

Cook bacon in a wide 6- to 8-quart heavy pot over moderate heat, stirring frequently, until crisp, about 5 minutes. Transfer with a slotted spoon to paper towels to drain, then add onion, carrots, celery, and bell pepper to bacon fat and cook, stirring, until onion is softened, 8 to 10 minutes.
Add all potatoes, broth, and thyme and simmer, covered, until potatoes are just tender, about 15 minutes. Add corn and cream and simmer, uncovered, 10 minutes. Add sea salt and pepper, then stir in bacon.

"The breezes taste
 Of apple peel.
 The air is full
 Of smells to feel-
 Ripe fruit, old footballs,
 Burning brush,
 New books, erasers,
 Chalk, and such.
 The bee, his hive,
 Well-honeyed hum,
 And Mother cuts
 Chrysanthemums.
 Like plates washed clean
 With suds, the days
 Are polished with
 A morning haze."
 -   John Updike, September